Truth or Truth
by thelittlecaligrapher
Summary: Rachel asks a question she thinks is innocent enough but gets more than she bargained for from Quinn's answer. Faberry. One-shot.


Rachel honestly wasn't really sure how they got here. Well, she knew how she had gotten to the Puckermans' house; her Daddy dropped her off. But how she wound up alone with Quinn in Noah's bedroom was a mystery to her. One minute she was standing in the living room bobbing her head to the blaring music and the next she was wandering upstairs to get away from everything for a second. (After the blowout party Noah had last summer where some kids ended up going through his room and tearing up his stuff, he had forbidden upstairs access, and his 'or else' threat had been astoundingly effective.)

Apparently Quinn had the same idea as she did.

Ever since their talk outside Figgins' office after Rachel had stopped Quinn from turning Shelby in, they had been carefully dancing around the new territory that the label 'friends' put them in, not exactly sure what the protocol for enemies-turned-friends was. They had once almost reached a normal place in their rickety friendship before it toppled and they fell back into a rhythm too familiar to sustain the balance needed for civility between them. And then Quinn joined the skanks and it became something else, something new entirely. They had nothing to fight over anymore. They became acquaintances, as long as the word was applied loosely. It was more like they moved in such different circles that they never had the opportunity to clash anymore. And then Quinn rejoined glee and the careful balance somehow wasn't upset by their circles overlapping once again. Neither of them could figure out why, but it was oddly refreshing not to be constantly firing digs of varying sizes at each other.

And now here they were, alone with each other late into the night at a party neither of them had been particularly enthusiastic about attending in the first place. Rachel really hadn't felt like partying since Finn and she broke up. But she and Quinn were here, and alone, and _trying_, and frankly, that was more than either of them could have said up until that point.

"Most embarrassing moment?" Quinn questioned from her place on the floor across from Rachel, head tilted back against the wall.

"The first slushie facial I got. Your laughing made it worse than my 5th grade talent show act when I twirled mid-song and fell off the stage. I blacked out. It's the only talent contest I've been in and didn't at least place."

Quinn looked satisfyingly guilty and embarrassed as she looked away and muttered a quiet "sorry."

"First kiss?"

"Puck. On a dare in 7th grade. You?"

"Finn."

"Ah. Best moment of your life?"

"Sectionals, the first year of glee. We all felt so close then. Like a real family," Rachel said, staring off into the distance as the memory washed over her and she tried to recall how exactly the moment felt.

Rachel focused back on Quinn's face just in time to catch the small, private smile she thought Quinn didn't mean for her to see. It slid off the blonde's lips when she noticed Rachel looking, her mouth straightening and expression struggling to go back to normal.

"What?" Rachel demanded.

"Nothing. Ask your question."

"What if that is my question?"

"Then my answer will again be 'nothing' and you will have lost your turn for another question."

"Oh fine. Ummm…" Rachel tapped her chin with a contemplative finger that she pointed dramatically at Quinn when a question popped into her head. "What's the scariest thing you've ever thought about doing?"

Quinn's eyes locked onto Rachel's for a fiery moment that left Rachel feeling too thinly veiled. When hazel eyes pulled away from Rachel's brown, she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

"Come on now, Quinn. This game only works if we answer, and answer honestly. What's the scariest thing you've wanted to do?"

"Kiss you." Quinn said right atop the end of Rachel's sentence.

Rachel felt her breath catch again. "What?" somehow escaped, breathless and weak – because honestly, what did she just say? Surely she heard Quinn wrong.

"The scariest thing I've ever wanted to do is kiss you. It terrified me the first time I realized I was thinking about it." Quinn said matter-of-factly, holding Rachel's stare with firm determination.

"Then it's happened more than once?" Rachel squeaked, not able to look away but also not able to still the ever-persisting word vomit she was known for.

"I think it's my turn to ask a question, Rachel," Quinn replied with a wry smile, seeming to enjoy how much she had thrown Rachel off. "Had you ever thought about kissing me, before I told you I've thought about kissing you?"

"What makes you think I thought about it when you said that? Honestly, Quinn, you're acting a little full of yourself." Rachel brushed her hair over her shoulder, trying not to look as flustered as she felt.

"Don't think about elephants," Quinn replied with a pointed stare and tip of her head, looking amused and unimpressed at the same time.

Rachel huffed. "Touché," she replied, sidestepping the questions blatantly.

"'Come on now, Rachel. This game only works if we answer, and answer honestly.'" Quinn mimicked, smirk plainly pulling at her lips now.

"Yes," Rachel grumbled grudgingly. "I have."

"Whe-"

"Aah!" Rachel cut her off loudly and held up a hand. "My turn to question."

Quinn snorted then waved her hand, motioning Rachel to continue on.

"When did you first start thinking about, um, this," she swallowed uncomfortably. Why was she uncomfortable? It wasn't a big deal. This kind of thing was common among teenage girls, right?

_Right?_

Rachel bit her lip nervously. She shifted back on the floor to sit up a little straighter against the foot of the bed.

"I guess the first time was right after Finn found out that Puck was Beth's father, when you came to me and apologized for telling him. I blamed it on the pregnancy hormones at the time. You?"

Rachel felt her cheeks burn hot, sure her face was tomato red but hoped the horrid lighting in the messy room would hide it well enough. "This year. Under the bleachers. When I asked you to come back to glee club." Rachel looked anywhere but at Quinn, eyes consequently darting around the room, over the floor, down at her argyle socks, along her legs to the hands twisting each other restlessly in her lap.

"Really, Rachel?" Quinn said lowly. Rachel could hear the curve in her lips, the confident doubting laced into her words. And then the voice was moving closer, too close. "That's the _first_ time you _ever_ considered kissing me?" Quinn's voice was husky – only, that wasn't the right word for it. It was smoother than the connotations 'husky' brought to mind. But the only other word Rachel could think to describe it as was _sultry_, and she refused to even entertain that word in the present circumstances. "You sure that was the first time?"

Rachel nodded her head rapidly, eyes still glued to her hands because Quinn was right beside her and it'd be too easy to look up and get lost in hazel arrogance. But somehow the nodding turned into tiny shakes of her head, and words started spitting out in true Rachel Berry fashion. "Before that, in the auditorium, when you yelled at me about not belonging in Lima–"

"I didn't yell," Quinn chided breathily, fingers pulling at a lock of brunette hair. Rachel's objections froze in her throat at the move, successfully cutting the refute short. "Why then? That wasn't exactly one of our finer moments."

"B-because the way you were looking at me. It was the most emotion I had seen you show in so long. And it was directed at me. It was provoke by me. It was–" Rachel's quivering voice broke off, but Quinn picked the sentence up.

"Hot?" she breathed, her lips brushing against Rachel's ear. Her eyes fluttered and her throat closed around a pitiful whimper.

"No," she choked out too quickly when her lungs dragged in a needed breath.

"Rachel."

She refused to turn.

"_Rachel_."

Her stomach flip-flopped at the way the name dragged out of Quinn's mouth, as if she was running her tongue over every letter and sound, tasting her without anything Rachel could do about it. Except not look. She couldn't. She'd be a lost cause if she fell into those eyes now.

"_Berry_," Quinn snapped sharply and Rachel felt a shiver run through her as it triggered a pathetic reflex she hadn't managed to break herself of yet. She turned obediently and Quinn took her in. The blonde leaned forward, mouth almost brushing Rachel's, their lips way too close together and impossibly too far apart. "I think it's your question, Rach."

Rachel's brown eyes zoomed back and forth between Quinn's concentrated ones and her slightly parted, perfect pink lips. A thousand questions came to mind, all of which made Rachel's face tint with pink all over again. She wanted to know everything about Quinn's lips. What would it be like to kiss her? Is she dominant or would she surprise Rachel and be compliant? Would the kiss be hard or soft or in between? What does her mouth taste like?

"Why don't you kiss me and find out?"

What? Oh. Shit. She said that last one out loud, didn't she?

"I, uh, don't think–"

"Then _don't_ think, Rachel. For once just shut up and _do_ something about what you want."

Spurred on by Quinn's lent confidence, Rachel pushed forward, through her fear and nerves and thoughts, only to realize just before their lips brushed how insane this whole thing was. She started to jerk back, but Quinn saw it coming. Her hands flew to the back of Rachel's neck and yanked her forward the rest of the way, plowing Rachel through all her reserves about the kiss – and thank god she did.

A moan came out before Rachel realized what was happening. Her blush was back full-force but Quinn didn't seem to mind her sounds. She pulled Rachel closer, trying to get her to open her mouth with a few light strokes of her tongue against Rachel's timid lips. A surge of panic hit her when she opened her mouth reflexively. But then Quinn's tongue was against her own and Rachel stopped feeling anything but the gentle smolder that sparked to life in her stomach and the smooth push and pull of Quinn's kiss.

She started to pull away. Rachel followed, not wanting their lips to ever leave each other. Her hands flew to Quinn's shoulders to keep herself from falling flat on top of the girl. Quinn's lips turned up against Rachel's, but Rachel couldn't care less how clingy she was coming off. She wanted Quinn's mouth on hers and she didn't care what price was required, even if it was her reputation.

"Rach," Quinn mumbled against her lips, fisting Rachel's hair and finally pulling them apart. She didn't go far though, thank goodness. Quinn left their foreheads pressed against each other, their noses rubbing with any movement either made. Rachel could taste Quinn's breath as the blonde released a satisfied sounding sigh.

"My turn." Quinn whispered and Rachel's eyes snapped up from wet lips to certain eyes in confusion. "Would you like to go on a date with me next Saturday night?"


End file.
